


to sail in your smile

by falsealarm



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/F, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 08:37:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12678330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falsealarm/pseuds/falsealarm
Summary: “I don’t remember the last time I sat down to read a book or the last time I took a bath. Or hell, I don’t even remember the last time I kissed someone.”[post episode 305]





	to sail in your smile

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by KT Tunstalls' "Yellow Flower". It sounds more serious than this fic is. Un-beta'd because of course it is. Takes places after 305 so obv spoilers for that ep.

The food fabricator is quite possibly the most beautiful thing Zari’s ever seen (except the quantum computer she saw in an A.R.G.U.S. base that one time, that was exquisite). Slide a clean dish in, press a few buttons and suddenly you’ve got a stack of fluffy pancakes! Or an ice cream sundae! Or an entire roast chicken with asparagus and potatoes! Which is exactly what Zari pulls out of it as soon as Nate gets his spaghetti and meatballs.

The kitchen is packed but eerily silent. The entire crew seems shaken by Rip’s noisy and ominous removal from the ship and a mood has settled into the silence. Thick and noxious, seething in some places, worried in others and Zari feels it like a weight on her shoulders, not at all conducive to eating a delicious dinner. Amaya is moving in at her right, hand reaching to pull the chair out next to Zari but Zari lays a hand on it, looks up at Amaya.

“I’m gonna go eat in my room,” she tries to keep her voice quiet but it echoes into the silence, urges a head raise from Sara, a knowing nod from Mick.

Amaya simply replies with: “I’ll join you.”

She still hasn’t unpacked her room. Not like there’s much  _ to _ unpack but she’s been on the Waverider a couple weeks now and the only thing that’s come out of her bag for good is the picture of her family, tucked into the framing of the wall by her bunk. Amaya always looks at it when she enters, eyes lingering just long enough that Zari wonders of the loss in her own life. She looks at it this time too, soft eyes flicking to the photo but then quickly back to Zari as she  _ gracefully _ piles her mountain of food onto an unopened crate next to her bed. Amaya’s face is alight with silent laughter as she watches Zari wrangle her series of dinnerware and herself into a respectable configuration.

Once she’s settled onto the floor—and has thrown a few dirty looks at Amaya’s laughter—Zari directs Amaya and her salad to the lone chair in the corner (an evening fighting cultists and this woman returns to the ship to eat a  _ salad _ ).

“This is just insane,” Zari says mostly to herself, eyeing the chicken in hopes that it will tell her the best place to start in on it.

“We did a Thanksgiving dinner with it a few months ago,” Amaya offers but that isn’t what Zari means. Well, it  _ is _ , but this is the biggest meal she’s had in months, maybe even years and it just appeared out of nowhere, out of nothing (well not nothing, Zari understands the science behind it but it still seems so magical).

“I don’t remember the last time I had this much food all to myself,” she clarifies, deciding finally to just pull off a leg. It separates easily and Zari brings it to her mouth, bites into it and closes her eyes, her heart could sing it’s so delicious. Amaya’s watching her when she opens her eyes, like maybe she’s waiting for an explanation or perhaps she just likes watching Zari eat with the way she’s smiling. Zari decides on the former but she takes another bite, content to let Amaya wait a little longer for details because this chicken is blowing her mind.

She actually finishes the entire leg before she continues but Amaya’s attention is still rapt. She’s through half her salad already, maybe even moreso and she’s eyeing Zari’s chicken now—like watching Zari eat made her body realize a salad really isn’t the kind of thing you should eat after a fight. Zari nudges her crate with her knee, pushes it only an inch or so in Amaya’s direction as a silent invitation to partake and Amaya’s smile gets wider. She moves from her chair to kneel aside the crate, fingers poised to pluck the other leg.

Weeks ago there’s no way in hell Zari would’ve shared a meal like this with anyone. The chance of finding any un-rationed food in 2042 was slim. Zari herself had only seen so much because she’d been in and out of A.R.G.U.S. facilities and once the home of a very well-to-do A.R.G.U.S. top dog (she’d stolen a bag of marshmallows from his pantry and a sleeve of cookies so sweet Zari swears they gave her a cavity). Sitting like this even, on the floor with Amaya at her knee in a room with one exit and no windows would never have been an option. Zari suddenly feels the itch to reach for her go bag, eyes darting to the side of her bed where it’s still sitting, unpacked and untouched, since her first night on the Waverider.

“I think this is the most normal my life has been in years,” Zari starts, turning back to her dinner to stab a potato with her fork, “which honestly makes no sense considering we’re on a time machine.”

Amaya chuckles softly at her but nods, covers her mouth as she finishes chewing her food. “This ship grows on you quickly.”

“It’s not just the ship, it’s—I’ve slept in the same bed for almost two weeks,” Zari says around a mouthful of food, “I don’t remember the last time I did that either.”

“I won’t pretend to know what your life was like in 2042 but you’re safe on this ship, Zari.” There’s an earnestness to Amaya’s voice, like she suddenly seems to think Zari  _ doesn’t _ feel safe and needs to assure her she is. Zari finds it charming but she shakes her head, waves another forkful of potato at Amaya.

“No, I mean, I know I am it’s just—I haven’t been able to relax like this in a very long time.”

“I wouldn’t call today’s adventures relaxing,” Amaya jokes between another bite of chicken and Zari shakes her head again.

“This part, I mean. Sitting here, eating dinner,  _ talking to you _ ,” Zari gestures with her fork again before eating the potato at the end of it. “I don’t have to worry about A.R.G.U.S. finding me. I have  _ free time _ , for the first time in years.”

The thought hits Zari a little harder after she says it because it  _ has _ been years. Her life with the resistance was exciting and empowering but it was tiresome, neverending. Free time, whatever there was of it, was spent sleeping. But Zari supposes normal people get hobbies when they have free time. Hacking used to be Zari’s hobby, before everything went to shit, she doesn’t think Gideon would take kindly to her poking around her systems any more than she already has though.

“So what do you want to do with it?” Amaya’s finished her salad and all the chicken she’s apparently going to have, has set her plate aside and resituated to sit cross-legged, her knee close enough to Zari’s outstretched leg she can feel the heat of it.

“I don’t know,” Zari says in a huff of hot air as she finishes off her asparagus. She stares down the chicken again, uses her fork to pry a big piece of the breast free and chomps on it inelegantly. Amaya seems content to watch Zari eat again and Zari wonders if those manners are all her or if everyone from her era is just as polite. It’s a little unnerving being watched so closely but there’s this kind of—Zari doesn’t want to say reverence because it sounds too romantic, but it’s almost like Amaya can’t believe Zari is real.

“It’s hard to remember what I did before,” Zari finally answers around the last bite of her chicken, hoping some kind of answer will dim Amaya’s attention on her but it doesn’t seem to do anything. She sets her fork down, takes a long drink of her water then stares at the glass, runs a finger along the edge of it. “I don’t remember the last time I sat down to read a book or the last time I took a bath. Or hell, I don’t even remember the last time I kissed someone.”

“You don’t read books,” Amaya says with a small laugh and she’s right, that’s true, “and we don’t have a bath tub.”

“And I’m sure as hell not kissing anybody on this ship,” Zari finishes quickly, looking up from her drink just in time to see something melancholy slide across Amaya’s face then disappear. Zari feels the urge to take it back immediately, feels a cold crackling in the bottom of her stomach as Amaya nods her head and looks down at her lap. “I mean not unless somebody on this ship  _ wanted _ me to kiss them,” Zari adds, trying for enough nonchalance that it hopefully sounds like more of an afterthought than a clarification.

Amaya’s eyes do seem to light up a little and the smile on her lips is soft, warm where it hits Zari’s chest and settles. “I’m sure Raymond would love to kiss you,” is the reply she receives.

Zari can feel her body start to vibrate, feels tension in her shoulders, in her neck. Surely Amaya isn’t serious. Ray Palmer, boy wonder, is handsome, sure, but it’s Amaya that’s been giving Zari signals left, right and center since she boarded the ship. Hell,  _ before _ she even boarded the ship. All this talk of destiny and connections and Amaya thinks Zari wants to kiss  _ Ray Palmer _ .

But then Amaya’s smiling wider, laughing again and instinctively Zari reaches out to smack at her shoulder, “that’s mean.”

Amaya’s sorry is half-hidden by her laughter but her eyes flick down to Zari’s mouth, lingering purposefully and Zari feels something jolt in her stomach, any anger in her system dissipating completely. “Does somebody  _ else _ on this ship want me to kiss them?”

It’s a useless question, Zari already knows the answer, can see it in the way Amaya’s eyes dart down to her mouth again but it buys her a few seconds to build her courage. When Amaya answers “yes” Zari’s already closed half the distance between them.

Zari does remember the last time she kissed someone. Adam had bright green eyes, a kind smile and the best hacking pedigree Zari had ever seen (besides herself, obviously). He helped Zari break into a A.R.G.U.S. server she’d been firewalled out of and the kiss had been celebratory, fast and hard, and Zari remembers the surge of endorphins from their victory more than anything else. But with this kiss, with Amaya’s mouth soft and pliant against her own, all Zari will remember is warmth.

It radiates out from her lips, around the back of Zari’s head then down her spine, shooting to the outer limits of each limb leaving her warm and tingling from toe to top. She can feel Amaya smiling against her mouth before she feels a hand on her thigh, before Amaya’s mouth moves away for a fraction of a second then presses in again for a second kiss. Zari’s eyes are only just closed and she wonders if Amaya’s are too. She wonders if Amaya cares at all that she probably tastes of asparagus or that the door to her bunk is open or that Zari’s hands are sitting uselessly in her lap. She wonders if Amaya knows that it’s also been years since Zari kissed a girl and she wonders if Amaya can tell by the way Zari is kissing her.

Zari feels the light before she sees it, a displaced heat with no attached tingling against the top of her rib cage. It’s purple again, red and blue at the edges and Zari startles it’s so close to them: sandwiched between their chests, caressing the clean line of Amaya’s neck as it reflects outwards, as Zari pulls away.

Amaya’s eyes are wide with wonder, watching the light shining between them and against them and it disappears just as quickly as it appeared. The lingering heat from Zari’s totem settling into her skin makes her realize Amaya’s still got a hand on her thigh and she looks down at it, can feel an honest blush creep up the back of her neck as Amaya smiles at her.

“What was that about our  _ connection _ ?” Zari tries to tease but she’s staring at Amaya’s mouth, supposes she isn’t as smooth as she’s pretending to be.

Amaya’s answer is all smile and Zari feels the warmth of it in the tips of her ears and the palms of her hands, “I think it’s worth exploring.”


End file.
